


There Is Always Something That Cannot Be Said

by Dana



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Gen, set somewhere in the vagueness of 2x08 when Sam you know whats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: Soon, they'll talk, but not just yet.





	There Is Always Something That Cannot Be Said

**Author's Note:**

> Just a thing I wrote when I was in one of my moods.

Soon, they'll start talking about physiotherapy and other long-term goals, the plans for Sam's recovery, how it's really just the beginning now, with Sam just a rag doll confined to his bed. The man with DCI Morgan's face already has such high hopes for him, he's made them all so proud – he's sure Sam can do this too, but to Sam it seems impossible, it all seems so impossible. A few days after that, when his mum is at his side, still, always, telling him it won't be long now, he'll finally be going home, the bedside phone rings, and rings, and rings, until Sam's head is split open with it.

His voice croaks, his throat aches, and Ruth's forehead crinkles, her eyes darken with concern. 'The phone's not made a sound, Sam. You're overtired... I should let you get some more rest.' She smiles that one smile that mums do when they don't want you thinking you've just gone and scared the life out of them, but you know better – Sam's always known better. She pats Sam's hand, warm and alive and _real_. 'I'll see you tomorrow morning? You have a good kip.'

He wants to say, he doesn't want to sleep, but she's right – he's tired – and he nods against the pillow, the starched linen crinkling. He doesn't want to fight it. 'I love you, mum,' he says, but those are the only words he has. He can't tell her, he's trying. He can't tell her, whenever he closes his eyes, he loses himself in the darkness, can hear only the sound of their dying screams. He's awake now, but he'll never come _back_.

She smiles, squeezing his hand tightly – he needs to be strong, he needs it to be enough. 'I love you too, my beautiful boy.'


End file.
